


Marta's 2005 Birthday Drabbles

by HASA_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: General, Multi-Age
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2005-06-28
Packaged: 2018-03-23 13:40:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3770378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HASA_Archivist/pseuds/HASA_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabbles written for my birthday on the following prompt:</p><p>I'm interested in moments between cultures where one considers itself more civilised than the other. What did the "less civilised" think of the "more civilised". </p><p>A good example is the Gondorians and the Rohirrim. Faramir describes the Rohirrim as "middle men", and strongly suggests that they're less civilised than Gondorians. So what did the Rohirrim think of the Gondorians? </p><p>Pick any such pair. Noldor/Sindar, Shire-hobbits/hobbits outside of the Shire, Elves/Dwarves, Bree-men/Dunedain Rangers (or the other way around on that one), Men/Orcs. And give me a glimpse of what the "other side" thought of the supposed superiors. Bonus points if you can bring Celeborn into it in some fashion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. About a Ranger - Vilwarin

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

The barkeeper looked up at the tall man standing in front of the counter. Unkempt, greasy, shoulder length hair and a chin full of untended stubble.  
Looking further down, he took in the ragged, muddy clothes. There was some blackish-red stain in the material whose origin Butterbur didn’t even want to think about. And worst was that he stank!  
He shook his head at the man. Rangers were definitively not civilized folks. How they would find a wife and sire some children looking like they did was beyond the Bree-man.  
“How can I help you Mr…?”  
“Strider,” came the reply. Butterbur would have groaned had he been alone. He did not even have a proper name!


	2. Comparison - Vilwarin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drabbles written for my birthday on the following prompt:

‘I am going to marry a woman of the Dúnedain,’ Éomer thought idly as he sat in his study ‘what will Lothíriel think of my country? They have grand houses of stone and big libraries full of ancient lore, while ours are made of wood and all lore we posses are our songs. They can write and speak several languages.’ The king of Rohan sighed. ‘And they live so incredibly long lives! She will surely outlive me and watch while I wither and fall from my high seat unmanned and witless.’ Éomer grumbled in frustration.  
Suddenly his eyes lit up and he exclaimed “Pa, what was I thinking? They do have their dead stone, that they can keep! But what of their spirit? They burry themselves in their past while we go singing into battle on proud steeds!  
When his queen came, he would show her what it meant to live.


	3. Outlandish/Exiled: A matched pair of drabbles - by Dwimordene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drabbles written for my birthday on the following prompt:

The Breelanders and the Dúnedain each have reasons to regard each other as less civilized, so that means we need two drabbles to do them both justice.

* * *

**Outlandish**

Bob sighed when he saw them approaching. All over mud and grass stains— _What, do they roll in the fields?_ he wondered—and wary eyes in weary faces, watching everything and everyone. As if, he thought, they did not trust the Bree-folk.

"Well, handsome is as handsome does," he muttered. "Better look in a mirror, lads!" He was only glad they'd no horses, for he'd no desire to get that look from them, no matter they always paid. _As if I'd do anything to them!_

_Rangers_. Bob shook his head. _Aye lads, it'll be a long night in_ The Pony _..._

***

**Exiled**

"You can lose your heart or your pride, lads, it's that simple"—a Ranger's first and hardest lesson.

_For pride's harder to lose_ , he thought, as the serving girl took one look and turned her pretty nose up.

And he'd hoped for peace that night, but alas! _The Pony's_ common room had two moods for Rangers, and tonight, he was the entertainment. "C'mon, lad, a meal's worth a song, eh?"—pride can sour on such charity. So 'twas for heart he sang:

_Gulls cry on the stormwind,_  
high over waters wide,  
Look thou homeward, Exile,  
That we may here abide!

 

* * *

"Handsome is as handsome does"—Pippin, "Strider", FOTR


	4. Valinor - a ficlet by Dawn Felagund

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drabbles written for my birthday on the following prompt:

The light hurts our eyes at first. It is not as promised.

The dust in the streets is a fine powder that glistens like diamonds. The dust on our bare feet is coarse and black and makes painful blisters. We are led before the Valar in tattered furs that are warm if not beautiful, not that warmth is an issue here.

Their robes are of silk, their sandals of leather as supple as water; there are jewels on their brows. I watch for their faces to pinch at the sight of us, but they betray no emotion. ?Kings of the Eldar,? they say, ?we invite you to join us in Valinor.?

A thrill seizes my heart?but I hesitate. Thoughts of the Hither Lands trouble me. I will miss the meadows glazed in silver, the flicker of the stars in Cuivienen. I will miss the starlight on Miriel?s hair.

Ingwë steps forward.


	5. The Architect - Ficlet by Dawn Felagund

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drabbles written for my birthday on the following prompt:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who are not as familiar with The Sil, Feanor later led the Kinslaying of Alqualond against Olw's people, the Teleri. The Teleri would not relinquish their ships so that he could sail to Middle-earth, and as one of his reasons why he felt he had a right to them, he said, "Yet you were glad indeed to receive our aid when you came at last to these shores, faint-hearted loiterers, and wellnight emptyhanded. In huts on the beaches would you be dwelling still, had not the Noldor carved out your haven and toiled upon your walls."

The Noldor are eager to build a city for us, equal in grandeur to Tirion. They are my friends, and so I accept. It would be ungrateful of me to renew my long friendship with Finwë by insulting the talents of his people. But I have no qualm with our frail huts by the sea?better to hear the songs of the waves playing upon the crystal shores. Stone muffles, subdues. Isolates.

Finwë brings his most skilled architect to Eldamar. He leads me eagerly to meet him. The boy is young and carries himself as though his spine was poured from steel. His eyes are the same deadly silver found at the base of blue flames. He might be a statue, such is his beauty.

They would become steel and stone if given the choice, I think, these Noldor.

?King Olwë,? says Finwë, with a quiver of pride in his voice, ?I bring you my son Fëanor.?

*****  
 **Note** : For those who are not as familiar with The Sil, Feanor later led the Kinslaying of Alqualondë against Olwë's people, the Teleri. The Teleri would not relinquish their ships so that he could sail to Middle-earth, and as one of his reasons why he felt he had a right to them, he said, "Yet you were glad indeed to receive our aid when you came at last to these shores, faint-hearted loiterers, and wellnight emptyhanded. In huts on the beaches would you be dwelling still, had not the Noldor carved out your haven and toiled upon your walls."


	6. Ship and Shore - drabble series by Tanaqui

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drabbles written for my birthday on the following prompt:

**Subtle in mind, skilled in hand**

Such achievements! Jewels more fair than earth-gems. Seeing-stones that let mind speak to mind across the miles. Subtle scripts to capture tales of their valour.

Why waste time singing by the shores of the sea, or listening to the thrumming of wind in rope and sail, when you could have the ring of hammer on anvil, the hiss of bellows and crackle of furnace flames?  
  
Yet it was our ships they craved, in the end. The whisper of our blood upon the stones of the Swanhaven and the roar of our burning handiwork were the music they chose. Such achievements!

**Foresight**

The slow lift and fall frightened me at first, and I could neither eat nor sleep for three days and nights ere I grew accustomed to it. Yet the heaving of my stomach was naught to the sickness in my mind and heart when first I felt the Gift-land tremble beneath my feet.

I hear the sailors mutter: strange we should seek passage on the beasts we begged not sail. Ah, do they not feel, does the King not feel the foundations of the heavenly pillar shake? Nay, in marble-floored palaces and on ships they touch the earth no longer.

**Cold comfort**

The ring sits snugly between fur and sealskin, but I feel its chill striking into my bones. So must the cold have pierced the ribs of that sea-monster when the Great Sorcerer’s hands piled ice against it.

Fragile are the things of the peoples of the South when He casts his white cloak over the land! We warned it was no time for journeying, save for seal-hunt and bear-hunt, yet they were fey and would not listen.

I will bear the cold of this metal circle. So will our young men never forget either the courage or foolishness of Southern-folk.

**Safe haven**

Strong, wise, valiant: aye, so their songs claim – and the songs of Men, over whom they cast their glamour.

Their wisdom lies in building ships. I have seen them in the harbours near my mountain home: grey timbered, white sailed. Yet their timbers are bound and their sails are set by the strength of our iron: nails, pulleys, cleats. The wisdom of the Elves lies only in fleeing these shores to seek the protection of the Great Ones

We are the ones who have the stomach for this fight, the strength to endure the Dark Lord’s might. We, we remain!


	7. A Hallowed Place of Both Peoples - by Imhiriel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drabbles written for my birthday on the following prompt:

**A Hallowed Place of Both Peoples  
**

Eorl finally reached the summit of the Halifirien, to be greeted by emptiness. Merely some lonely alfirin stirred in a fitful breeze.  
  
So, Cirion after all had had to yield to his council's insistence: removed Elendil's grave from the Hill of Awe. The Eorlings well knew the whispers from Gondor, looking askance at these strangers, these "Men of the Twilight", uncultured and wild.  
  
Did they not trust exchanged Oaths, Eru Himself a witness? Not believe the newly-settled nation would cherish the land, its history and holy places?  
  
He would show Gondor his people's worth: let mistrust and disparagement be forgiven.  
  
~*~  
  
A/N:  
\- The title is a quote from UT, II (iii), Cirion and Eorl.  
\- "But when this was done, and Eorl had returned to the North to bring back all his people to their new dwelling, Cirion removed the Tomb of Elendil." (UT, II (iv), The Tradition of Isildur)  
\- "Men of the Twilight" is what Faramir calls them in TTT, The Window of the West.  
  
~*~  
  
Imhiriel


End file.
